


Death is the Only God

by the_doctor_shall_come



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Waiting for Arthur Pendragon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-31
Updated: 2016-08-31
Packaged: 2018-08-12 04:04:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7919824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_doctor_shall_come/pseuds/the_doctor_shall_come
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin thinks back to the events on the banks of Avalon after Arthur' s death. He remembers Freya coming to him to share words of comfort and closure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Death is the Only God

**Author's Note:**

> Merlin never got to have closure in the finale because of what the dragon had said to him so I decided to write him some. I added in some Game of Thrones, Doctor Who, and Harry Potter references as my inspiration! Sorry for the feels!

Gaius had once told him that death doesn’t happen to the person lying in the cold grave, death happens to the people standing around the grave. Death has always been a merciless and indiscriminate God that presided over everything Merlin had ever known. Merlin was familiar to death. After all, in his long life span he had seen so much, but more importantly he had lost so much more to the unrelenting jaws of Death.  
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Merlin especially remembers when Arthur died, almost two centuries ago now, just like it was yesterday. He remembered sending Arthur off to Avalon in a small, red oak carved boat, and sobbing on the banks of that lake, feeling like part of him had died and gone away with Arthur. The pain was too much too bear and he thought that something within his chest might snap, and that he may actually join Arthur in the grave. Sobs had racked his small frame, shaking him inside out; like someone had taken a mace and swung it repeatedly into his chest. He didn’t move from the bank of that river until Freya had came to him, her image appearing in that lake. The water had rippled and she had appeared; to Merlin she was someone else he had once loved and lost to this retched lake. 

“Merlin. Dear, look at me.” 

Merlin had pulled his head out of his arms from the crouched position that he had collapsed in, and rubbed his red puffy eyes. He stared at the water, trying to get his pupils to focus as Freya started to talk him down. 

“Hush now, dear. I know it hurts. But, you need to get up now dear. You still have a destiny to fulfill and a kingdom to protect. I know it seems like you have failed. But you have accomplished more than you will ever have known. What you and your king have done here this fortnight will be etched into the hearts of men for worlds to come. The Brave King and his most trusted Sorcerer.”

“How..can I..do that...without...him. It wasn’t supposed to end like this. I was promised.” The warlock had stuttered out in his ruined state.

“You more than anyone should know that destiny makes no promises.”

“NO! IT’S NOT FAIR! I WAS PROMISED DIFFERENT! I...was...promised.” Merlin had hurled back at Freya’s translucent image. The tears that had dried in his anger had started to spill over his cheeks again.

“Life is often not fair dear, just look at me, do you think I deserved the death that I had gotten? Arthur’s passing is tragic. I know. But men often find it unfair that it is the best things that are so tragic, don’t you think dear?....Oh, I don’t need to ask you that. You would know. Just look at you. Beautiful chaos born into the time of mortal men, when you truly belong with the angels; reckless and overlooked.”

Freya had looked sad and her eyes cast a sympathetic look towards the young man, now looking more like a boy, cowering next to the lake, silent now out of pure exhaustion. 

Merlin had known Freya was right. Freya herself was merely a girl when she had died, merely a victim. A pawn in Uther’s insane game of chess. But Merlin was far too tired to care about logic, all he knew was the pain, and all he saw was Arthur’s lifeless blue eyes staring back at him. It wasn’t fair. Arthur had been a victim too. He too had been a pawn in destiny’s cruel game. But then again, maybe destiny made pawns of us all.

Freya had continued speaking in spite of Merlin’s distracted silence. 

“Dear. Listen closely now. Your story is far from done and Arthur is just one chapter in your pantheon of pages. Your path will cross with many more for times to come, and those you will lose too. The vice of immortality I suppose. But, darling listen, it does no good to dwell on promises and should have beens’. Pray to any God you would like for your reward, for them to bring the dead back, but know that your labors will have no fruit of their own. For Death is the only God and he doesn’t care if you think that it’s not fair. No one can bring back the dead Merlin. But despite who we lose, we keep living and learning, if not for ourselves then for them. Remember, for Death is the only God, and the only thing we say to Death is “Not Today”. 

Tears streamed down Merlin’s cheeks as he pondered over Freya’s words. He knew she was right, but had neither the energy or hope to go about telling her so. He just looked at her with those sad blue eyes of his, hoping her words would save him from himself.

“Know that the ones who love us never really leave us, they keep living in our hearts and through our eyes. Take heart Emrys, for you will see your beloved again.”

Merlin had finally gotten enough energy to speak again, wanting to cling on to no more false hope, had hastily replied “I thought you said that the Gods don’t make promises?”

Freya smiled lightly at Merlin. “You’re right Merlin. The Gods don’t make promises. But, the Gods didn’t make this promise Merlin. Arthur did. Always remember that love is not an emotion but a promise. And he did love you so. In this unforgiving world Merlin, if you don’t believe in anyone. Believe in him.”

Freya smiled once more at Merlin before she had said in a hurried whisper, “I’m afraid that our time has run out now, the gates to Avalon are closing. Merlin, just know that I’ll take care of him for you. Goodbye now old friend. May we meet again.” And with that the water had rippled again and Freya’s image was gone from the crystal clear water as quickly as she had appeared.

Merlin had been so confused about what Freya meant at the time. All he knew was for the longest time to come every new day would bring pain, and once the sun had risen and Merlin had realized that he was once again alone, the feeling that Arthur had died all over again had rushed through him. But Freya had been right, Merlin had loved and lost over and over again in the oncoming years, but he learned to carry on in spite of that. To live not only for himself but for Arthur and all those he had lost. 

How do you measure the passing time when one is immortal. Is it in hours, days, years? Maybe it was in places, things, stories, or even music? For Merlin, it was people. Individuals who marked the passing of time in Merlin’s vast universe, the passing of chapters, racing towards the end of the story but never seeming to reach it.

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But eventually, everything must come to an end. All things.

And many worlds later, there would come a time at the end of everything, where Merlin would in fact see Freya and Arthur again. As the stars died above, and the sun swallowed itself whole, Merlin would once again see all those he lost again in the night sky above. His reward. And then and only then after the weary warlock had reaped his reward, he would greet Death as an old friend and they would both depart this life as equals. They would both depart this life fulfilled.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed!


End file.
